Fly
by Mercury Bohemian
Summary: Vash is drunk. Wolfwood is sober. Vash wants to fly. What happens? VashWolfwood shounen ai one-shot. Beware. That's pretty much all it's rated for. Bad sum...TT


A/N: Hi! Everybody. Wow. This is my first Trigun fic ever. Like I've never even written a little scrap and deleted it five minutes later (I do that a lot). Okay, this did not turn out how it started. It was supposed to be songfic to "The Only Time" by nine Inch Nails where Vash gets dunk and he and Wolfwood (Actually, when it first started, it was Vash and Knives, but I tossed that, 'cause I got bored after the first two paragraphs) have a little revelation that ends in eternal boffing, but it turned into a piece of total fluff that does not fit the lyrics at all. So I had to change everything. Delete the lyrics, change the title, and write a new author's note. Oh well. A Few Warnings that should definitely be heeded: This is a VASH/WOLFWOOD shounen- ai fic, which means that there is boys kissing boys (or rather priests kissing plants). If that bothers you, GO AWAY. I will not tolerate a flame about this, because you have been warned. Maybe a bit of angst, but not too much. OOC (sorry!) Fluff, Sap, and all other such things. Et cetera, et cetera. You get the point.

As For the disclaimer: Trigun has never been mine, nor will it ever be mine, and every time I think about it, I wanna cry. TT

Fly

Vash was drunk. Flat on his ass, barfing multiple times, hang over in the morning, I think flying from the roof might actually work, drunk. He had a bottle of beer in one hand and a frosty mug of it in the other, and he was swerving dangerously as he crawled slowly up the stairs.

It was a beautiful night, he decided as a chilly breeze rushed past him, very nearly tipping him backwards. The sky was brilliantly clear, the moons shining brightly, flanked by the candles of stars. It was chilly, but not uncomfortable, and he had a warm buzz in the back of his head as a result of so much alcohol.

From the roof he could see everything for miles and miles. Deserted streets and buildings with blank windows stretching away into nothingness as the desert swallowed the town's edge. There were a few lights on in the hotel across the street, where he and the insurance girls were staying along with the priest, but that was it.

The priest. "Nicholas D. Wolfwood." Vash said the name aloud, his voice slurring drunkenly on the 's' and the vowels. "Who are you?" His voice was louder that time, and, as if answering his words, someone stepped out of their hotel room and onto the balcony. Vash started.

"Whooooooooooo arrrrrrrrre yoouuu?" He yelled, and the person turned to face him.

"I'm sober. And you are?" Wolfwood's voice was soft, despite the fact that he was shouting.

"I-" declared Vash, even more loudly than before, "Am Vash! And I am un-sober" He sniggered slightly at this, swaying slightly as he chugged the rest of the mug of beer. He then proceeded to drop the empty cup, and it shattered on the ground fifty feet below (A/N: I know, I know, really tall building. Just go with it. "Oopsie." He said with a sheepish giggle.

"Don't hurt yourself now!" Wolfwood was laughing slightly. He figured he shouldn't egg the hapless blonde on, but a drunken Vash was an admittedly cute sight.

"I'm gonna fly," was all Vash said in return, his voice completely serious. "I'm gonna fly off this roof and they will never find me!" He stepped shakily forward, swigging down the last of the beer in the bottle before dropping it as well. ""Shattered glass is very pretty!" He shouted, and the for some reason the sight of it made him believe he _would_ fly if he jumped. "I am going to jump and fly!"

Wolfwood felt a shock of panic go through him. That building was taller than most. Vash would be seriously injured if he jumped. That drunk idiot. Vash was stepping up onto the ledge of the building, his arms spread wide. All Wolfwood could say was, "Wait!" He sprinted back into his room, shouting out the open door, "Don't jump Vash! You won't fly!"

Vash smiled sadly, his mind, as always, breaking through the drunkenness. "I am going to fly," he said determinedly, stepping forward once more. He could hear Wolfwood shouting at him, from the ground now.

"Vash, don't you dare fly! Don't you dare!" His heart was pounding as he ran across the street and headed for the stairs.

Vash muttered to himself as he came to the very edge, his toes resting on nothing but air. "Would you catch me if I fell, Mr. Priest?" He smiled grimly. "Nicholas D. Wolfwood. Would you catch me?"

Nicholas was taking the stairs four at a time. Vash had quit talking. "Vash, you idiot! Don't jump." Just as he reached the top of the stairs, he heard Vash mumble something and then he began to fall forward. His arms were outstretched, and his coat was billowing behind him like a slow motion sequence in a movie (A/N: do they have movies in Trigun?). Wolfwood lunged forward, and the visual spell was broken. Vash was tipping off the roof, and he had just about fallen out of reach when Nicholas leaned over the edge and caught his ankles.

The priest winced as the buckles of Vash's boots sliced into the palms of his hands, but breathed a sigh of relief. Thank the Lord, Vash hadn't jumped sooner. One second earlier and he'd have been a goner.

"I didn't fly," was the dismayed response that came from below. Nicholas merely hoisted the blonde up and helped him to his feet, a safe distance from the edge.

"You didn't fall, either." Nicholas smiled a half smile, glad Vash was safe, and heartbroken all the same. Vash looked as if he would cry.

"I didn't fall, because you caught me." Vash smiled then, a sad, melancholy smile of the most sincere variety. "Who are you, Nicholas D. Wolfwood?"

Nicholas thought he would melt. There was a sort of truth burning there. Some sort of morbid curiosity molten and beautiful beneath that smile, shining in those violently green eyes. And suddenly, al he wanted was to kiss that smile. To take away all the sadness it held. "I," he said quietly. "Am about to kiss you."

Vash didn't move, and Wolfwood, the priest who had just saved his life, the man who'd seen through him the very first time they'd met, Nicholas D. Wolfwood, kissed him. It was soft and gentle and warm, and Nicholas tasted of cigarettes and whiskey, and Vash thought he would melt under it. So he kissed him back.

It was a chaste thing, but the very act spoke volumes, and as he pulled away, Nicholas was surprised to see that this time, Vash really was crying. So he brushed his tears away, and the blonde smiled at him. His first real smile in a very long time.

A/N: Oh, gross. What a driveling mass a sappiness. I hope you don't get any cavities. Please review. I would appreciate it greatly, and if you don't, I won't know whether or not to keep writing Trigun, or to stick with other things. Thank you for reading.


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